Loner
by Gem2000
Summary: There was only one thing Emerson Jacobs feared more than the living corpses that yearned to take a bite of her: People. In her eyes, you fell into one of two categories: Predator or prey, and there was no way in hell she was going to become someone else's prey. She would rather die alone than help others in this world, but all that's about to change.
1. Chapter 1

**What's up, guys? I've had this story in my mind for a while, and I'll give you all a quick overview. This story follows Emerson Jacobs, a damaged fifteen year old girl who has done some very regrettable things in the past. It will explore her relationship to a group that she never could have dreamed to be a part of. This story will follow the plot of the TV show, with some adjustments to suit the new character.**

 **That being said, the story is rated T for language and violence right now, but I might bump it up when we get to later chapters. If you are looking for a Daryl/OC story, this unfortunately is not it. However, Emerson and Daryl will eventually form a very strong bond. Throughout, there will be flashbacks, indicated by italicized writing, of Emerson's life before joining the Atlanta group. Also, Emerson Jacobs is modeled after Jasmine Sanders.**

 **So with that, give it a shot! Hopefully you enjoy and stick with it! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

* * *

The backcountry Georgian road had rarely seen more than a couple cars travel down it a day. It was surrounded by lush waves of brown grass on one side, and a dense forest on the other, and the sunset ahead could have been taken straight out of a painting. The leaves that lay scattered on the pavement swirled into a mini-tornado as a vintage Jeep sped down the road.

Emerson Jacobs adjusted her grip on the wheel of the Jeep and sighed at the sight in from of her. She pressed on what she thought was the gas, only to have the Jeep jerk to a stop, causing Emerson to jolt forward.

She groaned, annoyed how inadequate at driving she was. Of course, being fifteen and extremely unexperienced behind the wheel didn't help. She pressed on the actual gas and started forward again. Once she was confident that the road ahead was clear, she turned her attention to the map sitting in her lap.

"What the hell?" Emerson said to herself, confused by the map laid in front of her. The mixture of red, blue, and black lines made no sense to her and made her long for the days when figuring out how to connect a GPS to the internet was considered a struggle.

"Screw it." She said as she crumpled up the map and threw it out the window, watching in the rear-view mirror as it fluttered many feet behind the car. Emerson gave a small grin as it landed on the ground. Emerson looked back to the road just in time to avoid hitting the corpse shambling directly into her path.

The navy-blue Jeep swerved wildly as she jerked the wheel to the right, sending the tires to spiral and skid across the quiet road.

"SHIT!" She yelled as she spun the wheel, but it was too little too late and the car spun off the road and into the dense forest, the front crumpling and wrapping around a tree. Emerson instinctively crossed her arms in front of her face, but it did little to stop the airbag from knocking the air from her lungs. A sickening crack echoed through the wreckage as her right wrist snapped from the impact. Glass sprayed onto the dashboard, cutting into her arms and face like little knives as gray smoke rose from the hood of the Jeep.

She groaned and sat up from her folded over position, dizzy from the accident, and coughed, gasping for air as the engine sputtered and died. She looked down at her injured wrist, a sense of relief washing over her when she saw it was the non-dominant one that had been broken. Perhaps a small gift from a universe that had decided to give her the worst luck possible. Small cuts littered her hands and forearms, and she winced as she pulled glass from a few of them, causing thin streams of blood to flow down her forearm. Blood ran down the side of her tanned face and she gasped at the sharp pain that radiated from a large gash in her hairline.

Emerson tumbled out of the car and landed hard on the pavement. Her bones shook upon impact and she coughed again, staring up at the sky swirling above her, not knowing if it was actually happening or if it just her disoriented brain tricking her. The ground spun beneath her and growls filled her ears. Emerson tilted her head to the side to see the corpse approaching the wreckage. Thankful that there was only one, she sat up, her head still spinning, and reached for the screwdriver tucked in her back pocket.

Emerson jammed the screwdriver into its fragile skull, and black goo spurted onto her jeans as she yanked the small screwdriver out. She had to will herself not to get sick, both from the smell and dizziness. The corpse now lay on the ground, its jaw still gnashing, and Emerson kicked her foot into its head, stopping the growls. Grey sludge engulfed her shoe and soaked into her sock. She gagged and pulled her foot from the corpse's skull.

"Thanks a lot." She grunted as she kicked the corpse's torso away from her. In reality, she had noone to blame but herself for this situation. What did she expect, trying to drive without as much as a learner's permit? Emerson sighed and gripped the handle of the car door, using it to hoist herself up slowly, her legs shaky and the queasiness in her stomach intensifying as she stood. She glanced into the the passenger seat of the Jeep, looking for the small red backpack that she had sat next to her, but it wasn't there.

Fear gripped her as she looked at the bag sitting on the hood of the car, having gone through the windshield. The rose-colored fabric had glass scattered on top of it and the snap had flown open, allowing the small amount of food and medical supplies she had scavenged to fly out of the pocket and onto the blue hood of the Jeep. She limped as fast as she could to the front of the car, which had completely crumpled in on itself, and stared at the cans of corn and beans that had burst open. Water dripped down the front grill, draining her only bottle of its vital liquid.

"Dammit!" She shouted and slammed her non-injured fist on the hood. She slid down the side of the Jeep, resting her back against on of its wheels, and buried her face into her knees. Apparently the universe had decided she had been too lucky. Three weeks of traveling alone by foot, and the one time she finds a car, she ends up totaling it.

She had been unusually lucky in finding the Jeep a three days ago. After weeks of travelling by foot, it had been a welcome sight. Even luckier that it still worked. Once she had killed the corpse strapped into the driver's seat, she used what little knowledge her cousin, Elijah, had told her about driving to start the Jeep and get moving. Though she didn't have her permit, they would go out every weekend to a local abandoned gas station parking lot in his old pickup. She would grip the wheel and listen to him yell at her to "hit the brakes" before running over a trashcan. Of course, that was before the world decided to shit itself. Now he was miles away in a city she had no idea how to get to.

Alone and lost in the backwoods of Georgia; an uncomfortable situation regardless of the threat of being devoured alive. It had been a shot in the dark, trying to drive that Jeep to Atlanta, but it had given her hope, possibly the only thing pushing her to find her cousin again.

Emerson sat against the wreckage as the sun continued to set in the distance. She wiped the tears of frustration sliding down her cheeks and slid the red flannel from her shoulders and fashioned a makeshift sling, hissing in pain as she slid her wrist into it. She tried rotating it, but it didn't budge.

"Nice goin', Em." She sighed.

To make the situation even better, a choir of gurgles sounded in the distance. Emerson's head shot upright, banging against the metal door. She rubbed the lump forming on the back of her head and stood. A horde of about thirty corpses were stumbling down the empty road, attracted to the smoke rising from the busted Jeep.

"You gotta be kiddin' me."

Emerson's heart pounded quickly as she took off into the forest, trying to escape the wave of death slowly making its way toward her. But once a corpse caught your scent, there was no escape. The only way they couldn't go was up, and the surrounding trees taunted her with safety, but with her wrist in the sling, there was no way she could climb. She limped until her heart felt like it was going to burst and and her head pounded loudly in her skull. Her bones ached and protested and her shoes caught on roots sticking up from the ground. A few stragglers had split from the herd and followed her into the forest. Gripping her screwdriver tightly, Emerson ducked behind a tree, her breath frantic and shallow, as she waited for the groans to approach her, but they never did.

Confused, she circled around the tree. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of three corpses sprawled out on the forest floor, each one with an arrow protruding from their skull. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. She gripped the screwdriver tighter in her hand. If there was one thing that was more terrifying than the corpses, it was the people that killed them. Corpses were easy: slow, loud, and weak. People… they had evolved. They changed, reverting back to their predatory urges when civilization fell.

Emerson ducked behind a cluster bushes and scanned the forest, her eyes caught on the man standing about ten feet away. She sized him up, noting his average height and build. She was ready to sprint away, but the large black crossbow aimed in the direction of the corpses kept her feet cemented to the dirt. She stopped panting, and the forest was completely silent, the only noise reaching her was the pounding of her own head. Her legs shook under her weight and she shifted, cringing as a twig cracked underneath her boot. The man spun around and aimed the crossbow in her direction.

Her heart raced and she remained a statue behind the bush. She quieted her breathing even more, taking in short puffs through her nose. Emerson panicked and looked around the forest floor for anything to defend herself with. She backed away slowly, duck-walking behind a tree and pressing her back against it, shielding herself from the man's gaze. Droplets of sweat ran down her face, stinging the multiple cuts from the glass, and her chest heaved as she took frantic breaths.

Emerson didn't notice the rotting hand grasping for her until it gripped her arm. She let out a high pitched squeal and fell from behind the bush. The corpse fell with her, landing on top of her injured arm. She cried out in pain and jammed the screwdriver into its head. Brown sludge rained onto her face and she sputtered to get it out of her mouth. The corpse fell limp on top of her, it's weight adding more pain to her wrist. Rolling it off her, she rose to her knees and wiped her eyes of the corpses blood, gasping for air and frantically searching for the man, who had definitely heard the scuffle. She froze at the shadow cast over her shaking frame and glanced up at the arrow aimed directly in between her eyes.

* * *

 _"I'm just sayin', you could do some serious damage with this bad boy." Julian said, his bright green eyes glistening behind his glasses. He turned the small Phillips head screwdriver in his hand. Emerson gave him a skeptical glance as she tucked her knife in the waist of her jeans._

 _"Bullshit! No way in hell are you gonna kill a corpse with that." Nate replied as he pulled a machete from his belt, holding it above his head, the moonlight glistening in the fresh blood dripping from the blade. He pointed it toward Julian's much smaller weapon. "That's all yours, four-eyes". Emerson wiped her hands and onto her tanktop, leaving red smears down the front. Next to her, Derek and Marcus dragged the limp bodies of the camp's residents toward their designated spot. The empty parking lot was scattered with tents and surrounded by a wall of RV's. Nate led the group of teenagers through the large camp, like a pack of hyenas scavenging the desert, stopping at each tent and filling the black trash bags slung over their shoulders with supplies. Nate paused and turned toward Emerson, pulling the bandana from his face and letting it rest around his neck. He motioned for the group to gather around them._

 _"We're gonna split up." He announced, placing his hands on his hips. "Derek and Tyler, you take those five." Nate pointed toward the five RV's on Emerson's left. The teens nodded and unsheathed their weapons, turning toward the small group of vehicles. "Marcus, you and Julian get the five next to those." He turned to Emerson, his eyes boring into hers as he pulled the bandana up to shield his face. "Em and I'll take the others." The two started to make their way to their assigned RV's, their blades ready in their grips._

 _"Do you really think this is the best idea? I mean-" Julian spoke up, wringing his hands together as he spoke, his eyes scanning the dark parking lot. "-What if there's more of them?". Nate huffed and turned toward the boy. He stared him down, his brows furrowed as he approached, his shadow swallowing Julian's much smaller frame._

 _"We do what we always do." He hissed. "You gotta better idea, Johnson?" Julian looked past Nate's imposing form, his pleading eyes briefly reaching out to Emerson. Her stomach churned as Nate grabbed the front of Julian's t-shirt, lifting him slightly off the pavement, but she didn't move an inch. Julian swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in his throat and frantically shook his head, his glasses falling from his nose and cracking against the hard ground._

 _"Then don't open your fuckin' mouth." Nate said through his tense jaw as he released Julian, who quickly picked up his busted glasses and jogged to catch up with Marcus. Nate stomped back toward Emerson, his fists clenched and his chest heaving with heavy, angry breaths. He ran a trembling hand through his thick, dark hair and turned to her._

 _"Don't look at me like that." He demanded, she rolled her eyes at him._

 _"Was that really necessary?" She complained, crossing her arms over her chest. He glared at her._

 _"That dumbass is gonna get us killed." He whisper-yelled, pointing aggressively toward the boy with the specs. "I ain't dying 'cause he can't keep his shit together." Emerson's eyes widened and flicked to the faint pink line on his left cheek, remembering how quickly he had stabbed Alex, the pack member that had caused it, during a fistfight over who should have the machete now strapped to Nate's waist._

 _"Don't do anything stupid, Nate." His eyes stared into hers intensely, but she stood her ground. "We don't have the numbers we used to." Emerson continued._

 _"You don't get it," He said, a strange desperation in his voice. He stuck his finger in her face, his intense grey eyes looking into hers as the bandana that covered his mouth moved with each word._

 _"If he starts thinking that he knows better than I do, and I just sit back and let the other guys think I'm weak-" He said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "-then next it's Derek that starts to question me, then Tyler, then Marcus, and then it'll be only you and me left. Do you know how vulnerable we would be without those guys? Don't you get that? Sure, we need the numbers, but we need them to be loyal, or we ain't gonna make it." He pushed an unruly curl behind her ear and placed his blood-soaked hands on the sides of her neck. "I just wanna keep you safe," He moved his hand to the bandana covering her cheek. "You know that?" Em nodded against his hand. Nate had kept them safe, and without the other guys, she doubted that she would have made it this long, but the unease in her stomach prevented her from confirming verbally._

 _"Good. I still gotta get you to Eli in one piece." He muttered, removing his hand from her cheek and using it to pull the large machete from his belt. The mention of her cousin had her gazing helplessly into Nate's eyes, like a lost child. She grabbed her large hunting knife from her waist and nodded. Nate looked toward the RV's and adjusted his grip on the blade._

 _"You know-" He said, sighing and looking back at her. "-I don't like doin' this shit either." Emerson looked away from him and toward the bodies stack high in the middle of the RV's, limp and lifeless. Nate turned and wrapped his strong arms around her skinny frame, patting her curls and allowing her to bury her head in his broad chest. She breathed in the mixture of sweat, blood, and smoke that he exuded and felt a sense of comfort and relief wash over her._

 _ **"** Why are we doing' it then." She asked into his chest._

 _ **"** 'Cause we have to." Nate said, lifting her chin up with his index finger and looking into her eyes with his now much softer gray ones. "I gotta keep you safe, Em. I couldn't live with __myself if you got hurt-" He paused and shook his head. "That's what the world is now. I ain't worried 'bout the corpses, 'cause I know you can handle 'em. But there ain't nothin' stoppin' someone from hurtin' you. No laws, no punishment, nothin'."_ _Emerson swallowed and nodded. Nate looked down at her and sighed again, wiping his bloody handprint from her neck and squeezing her shoulder._

 _"But I would die before lettin' them hurt you." He said, placing a hand on her cheek. "Remember that." Emerson looked down and unraveled herself from his arms. She narrowed her eyes at his back as he walked toward the RV before following him. There was a small tug on her heart and she looked behind her into the expansive tree line and sighed. She should've ran far from the group at that moment, ran and found another way to get to Atlanta and Elijah. She could have, but the uncertainty of what lay in those trees kept her loyal to the group of teenage boys currently raiding an innocent camp._

* * *

 _"You gon' finish that?" Emerson looked up from the flames devouring the bodies of the camp's residents in front of her and in the direction of the voice. Marcus had his eyes locked on the can of corn sitting in her lap, practically drooling despite the three empty ones strewn next to him. She sighed, placed the spoon she held back into the can and passed it to him. No matter how many times the group went through surrounding camps, the act always made her feel nauseous and faint. Marcus threw the spoon to the ground and slurped down the can, finishing it in a single swallow._

 _She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, chilled from the cool summer night air. Across from her, Julian was completely absorbed in a map sitting on his knees, the fire reflecting in his cracked glasses. Next to him, Tyler dug his knife into a can of peas, cursing as he struggled to cut through with the dull blade. Her eyes moved to Marcus, the oldest of the group, who was chuckling over some unfunny joke with Derek, the largest of the group. Nate sat only inches away on her left, his eyes also focused aimlessly on the flames as he shoveled canned noodles into his mouth. Without the bandanas around their mouths, they looked much less threatening. The moonlight reflected off the light peach fuzz on their jaws as they ate savagely, like normal teenage boys. Emerson sighed again and stood from the flimsy plastic chair, ._

 _"I'm going for a walk." She announced as she swung her red backpack over her left shoulder. The other guys ignored her, but Nate looked up from the flames and started to stand from his chair. "Alone." pushing on Nate's chest and forcing him to sit again. He opened his mouth, but closed it again when he saw the determination in her eyes. "I've got my knife, I'll be fine. You said you weren't worried 'bout the corpses." She reminded him. Nate gave her a wary look, but ultimately turned back to his noodles, remembering what he had told her earlier._

 _The night breeze was much more pure in the forest than in the camp. Back there it was heavy with smoke and the smell of burning hair, but out in the trees, it was fresh and delicious. Emerson took a deep breath, greedily taking in all the air her lungs could hold. This was where she felt most safe, sitting in the branches of a tree, high above any danger lurking below. No matter how much Nate tried to protect her, she would never be safe. There was no such thing as safe anymore, only safer. But up in the trees, she could escape the new rules of the world. She was safe from any corpses, or humans, that would see her as their prey. Emerson slowly pulled a loose cigarette from her bra and lit it with the small lighter Marcus had given her to set the fire with. Stress and anxiety released itself as smoke filled her lungs and she breathed it out into the night sky. It was dumb, smoking, but she deserved it now more than ever. Of course, her cousin would most_ _definitely not approve, so she would have to quit long before they made it to Atlanta and hide it from Elijah. That wouldn't be too difficult, considering what else she had to hide from him._

 _She rested her head against the trunk behind her and looked out into the night sky. How great it would be to have a rocket and just go live on the moon. Space was terrifying, an unknown and dangerous terrain, where the slightest mistake could kill you, but then again, that wasn't different from the supposedly stable Earth. She stared at those stars, disappointed she couldn't be among them as groans sounded below._

 _Leaning over to get a sight of what she was up against, she saw a corpse stumbling in the direction of her new camp. She focused her gaze on the white smoke rising from where the guys were set up and groaned, smacking her head against the trunk._

 _"Dammit!" She whispered, frustrated that they would fall asleep out in the open. "Gotta save their asses again." She muttered, extinguishing the cigarette and shimmying quickly down the tree. She snuck behind the corpse and buried her knife into it's skull. The corpse fell, taking her blade with it._

 _"What the hell?" She grunted, trying to remove the blade from it's head, but it wouldn't budge. She braced herself against its body and pulled as another hand gripped the back of her shirt. Emerson whipped her body around only to have another corpse fall on top of her, it's jaw gnashing only inches from her face. Bracing her forearm against its neck and pushing her head further into the dirt, she pawed at the forest floor, feeling for anything that could get the reanimated body off her own._

 _She grasped a baseball sized rock tightly in her hand, and swung it hard into the corpse's head. Her hand sunk into its brain along with the rock, it's blood raining onto her face and into her eyes and mouth. Gagging, she rolled the limp body off her and looked behind the tree she had once sat in. A massive wave of bodies swelled in the forest toward the camp. "Fuck!" She cried out as she tried to yank the knife free from the first corpse before abandoning it as the corpses creeped closer._

 _Her legs felt like someone had set them on fire as she ran toward the camp. Emerson felt her heart drop and increased her pace as gunshots and yells rang out from the camp. She focused on each yell, trying to distinguish who it was making the noise. The forest around her blurred and she didn't notice the person running in the opposite direction, slamming into her and knocking them both to the ground. She coughed and sputtered, kicking at the body, only stopping once she recognized Julian laying next to her, clutching his right shoulder and gasping for air._

 _"You gotta go!" He gasped, his eyes searching her blood covered face. Julian looked back toward the camp, and Emerson followed his gaze. Tears started to glisten in his eyes as he shook his head._

 _"Tyler and Marcus are dead. I didn't see what happened to Derek." He said, searching the incoming horde. Emerson felt panic rise in her stomach._

 _"What about Nate?" She demanded, but Julian focused only on the incoming corpses. "Julian! Where's Nate?" She yelled, shaking his shoulders. Julian's frantic eyes met hers._

 _"I don't know."_

 _She dropped his shoulders and looked over hers, the pack only a couple hundred feet away. Emerson grabbed Julian's hand and pulled him with her as she ran in the opposite direction, but he only acted as an anchor, his heels digging into the dirt._

 _"Julian! We have to go now!" She yelled, her heart racing as a few stragglers came dangerously close. He looked into her eyes._

 _"Leave me." Emerson kicked away a corpse that had grasped her jacket and turned back toward Julian._

 _"What?" She screamed as the corpse again grasped at her jacket. "I'm not fucking leaving you!" Tears streamed down Julian's cheek and he turned his left ankle toward Emerson. She gasped at the blood leaking out of the inflamed red indents in his leg. "Holy shit." She whispered. His bloodshot eyes searched her face as he tossed her the small screwdriver she had laughed at earlier. She gripped it, staring at the tool in her hand, only moving when Julian pushed her shoulders away from him, pleading for her to escape._

 _She ran even though her legs protested with each step through the thick forest. She couldn't will herself to look back, to watch her friend be ripped apart, but his screams of agony were enough to urge tears out of her eyes. Emerson ran until the screams and growls couldn't reach her ears any longer. She stopped and braced herself against a large oak, catching her breath and wiping the tears and blood from her face. She dropped her backpack on the forest floor and stumbled aimlessly._

 _"NATE!" She screamed into the darkness of the forest. She panted and screamed his name again, her voice cracking and echoing through the branches. The tree limbs cast contorted shadows on the ground below, looking eerily similar to the outstretched arms of the corpses. Emerson walked backwards, bumping into another trunk as sobs began to wrack her body. She tilted her head back and let out a loud yell, expelling the frustration and anger that had filled her while she had run from the horde, leaving only dread. Her knees gave out underneath her as despair took over her senses, and she sank down, the ragged bark catching and tugging on her hair and flannel. S_ _he collapsed to the ground, tears, dirt, and blood mixing together as her body shook with violent sobs. Everything was gone. Everyone was gone. She was alone._

* * *

The arrow in front of her jostled slightly as the man spoke.

"You alone?" He asked, his voice demanding and wary, but she didn't answer right away. The arrow split in two, and both moved shakily, making her brain pound even harder. She swallowed hard, trying to contain her nausea.

She nodded slowly and the man searched her face, his eyes lingering on the dark red streaks running down the side of her face. Blood had soaked into her curls, caking them together and turning the light brown dark and red. She tensed as his eyes made their way to her wrist, which was now twice it original size and wrapped with purple bruises. He looked back into her glassy blue eyes.

"You're hurt." He said. It wasn't a question. She stared at the arrow, her vision tricking her into seeing double. Slowly, she nodded her head. The man lowered his weapon and extended his hand toward her. She looked up at it, her eyes widening.

"No, I-" She started, her voice barely a whisper. "-I don't have anything to g-give you." The man cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't want your shit." He explained. "You're bleedin' out." He motioned toward his hand, but she just shook her head again.

" _Don't trust anyone that doesn't kill you right away. They're either stupid, sadistic, or both."_ Nate's voice replayed in her foggy head as she looked back at the crossbow slung over the man's broad shoulders. _Stupid or sadistic._

Slowly, she stood up, bracing herself against the tree. The man extended his hand closer to her, but she shook her head again and pushed it away. He grunted and dropped it to his side, watching as she struggled to stand. She flipped her hair out of her eyes and looked at him.

"I don't-" Emerson winced, her head spinning wildly. Her vision doubled again, turning the man standing in front of her into a mush of color. "-I don't need your help." The man scoffed and adjusted the crossbow on his shoulder. Emerson leaned against the tree, using it to stop her from falling over. The man looked around and sighed.

"Bullshit" He grunted. "You're 'bouta keel over." Emerson gritted her teeth leaned her head against the tree, looking up at the sky and groaning in discomfort and pain. Her knees involuntarily gave out beneath her and she fell to all fours, pain shooting through her broken wrist. She let out a small cry and cradled the broken joint. The man sprung into action and wrapped his strong arms under hers, lifting her up and. Panic and adrenaline shot through her and she struggled against him, trying to free herself from his grip, but the black spots that had invaded her vision took over and the world turned to darkness.

* * *

 **Thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

_"Y'know I hate those."_

 _"You're missin' out, Em."_

 _Emerson let out a small laugh and focused her attention back to the small light in the distance. Even with binoculars and a height advantage, the dense foliage of the forest made it nearly impossible to see their next target. In the corner of her eye she could see a small flame flick to life._

 _"Sorry, I don't feel like dyin' before I'm thirty." Emerson said to the redhead sitting on the branch next to her own. She scoffed and took a long drag of the cigarette before tilting her head back and blowing the smoke into the night sky._

 _"We'll be lucky if we're alive tomorrow, Em. Live a little" Maya replied in a more somber tone, holding the lit cigarette out to her. Emerson shook her head and pushed it away. There was a part of her that wanted to take the cancer stick from the girl and inhale it's contents. To fill her lungs with something to calm her shaking hands. But she pushed out those thoughts, remembering the task at hand._

 _"Jesus." The older girl muttered , shaking her head and putting the cigarette between her plump lips. "I didn't know you were such a goddamn killjoy."_

 _Emerson rolled her eyes and refocused on the firelight in the distance. It must've been a pretty large one to be able to see it from this distance. Nate and the other guys were scattered throughout the forest, each one in a different look out station, each getting a different view of the target. Emerson used the binoculars to scan the surrounding forest, but the darkness of the trees prevented her from seeing any of her groupmates. She brought a hand down to her belt and felt the walkie-talkie strapped to her waist. There was a long period of silence between the two girls, filled only with the chips of crickets far below and the sound of Maya scratching at the wood below her. The redhead let out a loud sigh._

" _We've been sitting here forever. Where the hell is your boyfriend?"_

 _Emerson sighed and shook her head._

" _He's not my boyfriend." She replied. Maya snorted loudly, causing Emerson to roll her eyes behind the binoculars. But it was all an act. When he would look at her with his icy gray eyes, her heart would melt and it took every muscle in her body not to press her lips to his. He would run his hand through his wavy brown hair and her knees would go weak. She leaned her head against the tree trunk, her heart aching just at the suggestion of being in a relationship with Nate Anderson._

" _Bullshit." Maya snarked, picking at the branch she sat on with her icepick. "All y'all do is make bedroom eyes at each other." Emerson dropped the binoculars from her face and shifted her weight carefully, wrapping her legs tighter around the branch she was straddling. Maya smirked down at the branch she was mutilating._

" _I'm just sayin'."_

" _Well, you're wrong. He's way too old for me anyways." Emerson said bluntly. Maya looked up from the branch and arched a thin brow at her friend. She wrenched the ice pick from the wood and pointed it toward Emerson._

" _How old's he again?" She said._

 _"Like eighteen, I think." Maya scoffed._

 _"Are you kiddin' me, Em? That's only like, what, three years older than you?" Emerson tossed the binoculars to Maya and looked into her warm eyes._

 _"That's so illegal." She hissed. Maya caught the binoculars and rolled her eyes._

 _"Was." Maya said, pointing her weapon in her friends direction. "It **was** so illegal. I'm just sayin', you could totally get it. You'd have to change your name though." Emerson arched a dark eyebrow at the redhead._

 _"Emerson Anderson sounds horrible. You'd have to go by like, Em all the time. Or maybe Emmie." She explained. Emerson's heart ached when Maya mentioned the nickname Elijah had called her. She sighed, but masked her feelings with another eye roll._

 _"I haven't been called Emmie since I was like five, Maya." Emerson retorted. "Also, never gonna happen." Maya chuckled and brought the binoculars to her hazel eyes._

" _Fine," She replied. "If you're not gonna get with Nate, then I will." Emerson's face dropped. Nate and Maya? Would he want Maya? Jealousy rose in her chest and wrapped its ugly claws around her heart. Maybe Nate liked how Maya's long, auburn hair cascaded perfectly down her back. Or how her warm hazel eyes entranced anyone that glanced into them. Maybe it was the way she radiated confidence. Emerson's eyes dropped to the wood beneath her. Maya Anderson did have a nice ring to it._

 _Maya looked over and laughed "Chill, Em! I'm kidding! He's all yours." She said, winking at her friend. Emerson gave her the finger and opened her mouth, but was interrupted by the cracking of a walkie-talkie. Maya's eyes lit up and she pulled the bandana up around her mouth._

" _Okay guys." Nate's voice spoke through the static."Ten men, seven women, and four kids." A lump formed in Emerson's throat at the mention of there being children at the camp._

" _Copy." Tyler's voice spoke first._

" _Copy." Marcus' voice responded over the speaker. Emerson brought her shaking hand to her mouth and clicked the button._

" _Copy." She replied, her voice wavering._

" _Alright, it's time." Nate commanded over the radio. The familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves coursed through her veins as she hooked the walkie-talkie back on her belt. She looked toward Maya, who nodded at her. The girls scurried down the tree and huddled around the base, catching their breath. Maya looked at her, her eyes filled with predatory urge and Emerson took a shaky breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach._

" _You ready?" Maya asked as she smiled from under the bandana, her eyes crinkling. Emerson swallowed hard and nodded her head, gripping her hunting knife tightly. The fire in Maya's eyes grew as she adjusted the icepick in her hand._

" _Let's give 'em hell."_

* * *

 _Blood sprayed onto Emerson's half-covered face as she slid the knife across the man's throat. His eyes widened as he grasped the gash and gurgled, finally falling to the ground. She rammed the knife into his skull, it was the least she could do. It felt like slow motion, every move she made was like fighting through molasses. Bullets whizzed past her head as she ran through the chaos, the smell of blood and smoke rising in the air._

" _I need backup!" Her heart stopped as Nate's frantic voice sounded through the radio strapped to her belt. Searching for Nate's figure in a sea of black bandana's and vibrant red blood, she ran blindly into the bloodbath. The residents of the camp fell one by one, their throats slit, their heads pierced by bullets, their organs ripped out of their torsos by blades. But there were still so many left, and they fought back. The moonlight glistened off the splatters of shiny red on the pavement, and screams rang out into the temperate night sky. Families huddled together and people from both sides ran from the camp, only to have bullets chase them down like hunting dogs._

 _It was Maya that caught Emerson's eye. She was like an animal, her auburn hair caked in blood and sweat, and her hazel eyes dilated and crazed. She held her icepick in her left hand. In her right, she gripped a struggling woman by her long blond hair. The woman was on her knees, and her crying and pleading was silenced suddenly as Maya buried the icepick into her skull. The woman's pretty face dropped, her skull buckled inward and her body fell forward as Maya wrenched the icepick out. She turned toward Emerson, the bandana pulsing as she panted._

" _Em! There's too many! We gotta-" Maya's eyes widened suddenly and she stumbled forward, her arm wrapped around her abdomen. She fell onto her stomach, twitching and writhing. Behind her, a man holding a shotgun crumpled to the ground, Emerson's knife thrown into his skull like a dart. Her breath caught in her throat when she turned to Maya, curled up on the pavement. She fell to her knees next to her, flipping her and moving the arm wrapped around her abdomen, revealing a gaping wound and blood soaking into her pink sweatshirt. Hot tears leaked out of both girl's eyes as Emerson removed the bandana wrapped around Maya's mouth._

" _E-Em-" She gasped, her mouth filling with blood and tears, both her own and Emerson's. "You gotta- you gotta g-go."_

 _She looked so vulnerable in that moment. Gone was the boisterous and over confident young woman Emerson had grown to admire. No, she was replaced by a terrified child who should have never been in this situation in the first place. Emerson clutched her tighter, uncontrollable tears flowing down her face. She felt helpless as Maya sputtered and fell limp in her arms. Emerson's eyes widened and her mouth gaped like a fish gasping for air. Despair raced through her body as she clutched her friend closer, violent sobs racking her body. She didn't even hear the footsteps quickly approaching behind her and she kicked wildly as strong arms wrapped around her torso and wrenched her away, ripping her from Maya._

" _GET OFF ME! GET OFF! I CAN'T LEAVE HER!" She shrieked as Nate pulled her away from Maya. Angry tears streamed into her mouth as she pounded her fists into his arms. It felt like she had been set on fire. It was an intense, unbearable pain, destroying everything, sizzling her alive, searing and sharp. But as the fire left a wake of ash in its path, it was numbness that took over. Her nerves had crumbled to soot, leaving nothing inside. The numbness spread to her limbs, and she became an anchor in Nate's arms._

" _WE HAVE TO GO!" He yelled back, struggling to pull her away, but she couldn't hear him. She couldn't hear anything as Nate dragged her back into the forest,like someone had put the world on mute. The only thing she could sense as Maya's body was surrounded by corpses in the distance was the searing pain returned in her head, turning her mind into mush and darkening the forest around her._

* * *

Emerson shot upward, her forehead and hair soaked with sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest and she gasped for breath. She ran her shaking hand through her wet curls, trying to forget the dream. Only, it wasn't a dream; no, it was a memory. The way Maya had gripped Emerson's flannel as she slipped away was branded in Emerson's memory.

She sighed and looked down at the queen bed she was laying in, her eyes widening when she saw the mattress.

"What the hell?" She whispered as she kicked the covers from her body. Her torn and bloodied clothing had been replaced with new, clean ones. She sat upright in a pool of white linen, which was soaked with her sweat. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at her wrist, which was now wrapped in an ACE bandage. She examined the bandage, new and clean.

Slowly, she let her eyes scan the room. It was a large room with yellow walls, covered in photographs. Each one depicted what life was before the world ended. The bed lay in the middle of it, and on each side there stood a small bedside table. She was about to slide out of the bed when voices from outside the door made her freeze.

"-so you just found her out there? Alone?"

"Yeah."

"Well, why the hell did you bring her back?"

"What was I s'posed to do? Leave her for the walkers? "

"So you brought back another mouth to feed! Nice goin' Dixon. And what the hell happened to your face?"

"Nothin'."

"You sure the lil' bitch didn't get the best of you?"

"Shane, stop. She ain't dangerous. She's barely alive. No way she did that to Daryl."

"Ain't dangerous my ass! How do you think she survived in that forest? By makin' friends with the walkers?"

"She's a child, Shane."

"That doesn't mean shit. If we let her stay, we're puttin' the whole group in danger."

"You gotta better idea?"

Emerson took shallow breaths as she listened to the voices outside her door. One was the man she had… met in the woods, gruff and raspy, the one they had called Daryl. The second was more authoritative and calm. The third, Shane, was deeper and frantic.

She laid her head back on the soft pillow and groaned. Her wrist ached, but it was nothing compared to the searing migraine tearing its way through her brain. She brought her hand to her temple and felt the large gauze covering the wound, pulling it away and observing the faint red stains on her finger pads.

"Take her back."

"Shane, that-"

"It ain't our problem, Rick. She ain't our problem."

"She's hurt."

"So what? We're just gon' waste our shit on her?"

"At least wait 'til she's better."

Emerson took in a sharp breath, panic racing through her mind as she listened to the discussion. She tried to move, to roll out of the bed, but her her right arm wouldn't budge. Emerson looked over at her left wrist and groaned when she saw it handcuffed to the bed. She flopped back onto the pillow and cursed the men in her mind. There was no way in hell she would be kept here against her will, not while Elijah was waiting for her in Atlanta. She had made a promise, that she would stay alive, for him.

Her head jolted to the side as the door opened slowly and she watched as three men filed into the room. The man in the sheriff's uniform sat in a chair across from the bed. The one that had found her in the forest and one that was much larger than the other three leaned against the wall. The man dressed as a sheriff sat down across from the bed and tossed a bag of bread in her direction. Emerson looked at the bag and glared at the sheriff.

"I'm gonna need both my hands to eat." She said and shook her handcuffed arm. The sheriff looked to the man with the crossbow and nodded. He turned back to Emerson and gave a weak smile.

"Sorry 'bout that." He drawled as the man unlocked the handcuff. "We didn't know if you were bit or not." Emerson brought her hand to her chest and rubbed the red indentation around her wrist. Her eyes fell on the larger man leaning against the wall, noting his hateful stare.

"Smart." She muttered, not returning the sheriff's smile. Emerson took a slow bite of bread. For as starving as she was, she couldn't bring herself to wolf down the bread. It was like she had passed the point of no return, that here was no point in trying to fill her depleted stomach. So she ate slowly, savoring each meaningless nibble. She stared at the wall behind the sheriff's head, examining each photograph that graced the wall. Her eyes paused on the one of a girl. She looked to be around four or five years old, with white blond hair and a cute smile. A pit formed in Emerson's stomach and she swallowed the bread hard.

"My name's Rick Grimes-" He said. "-that's Daryl, and that's Shane." He continued, pointing to each of the men. Daryl nodded in greeting, but Shane didn't react at all. Rick turned back to her and leaned back in his chair.

"Daryl says he found you alone in the woods. You gotta group?" Emerson shrugged and chewed on another slice of bread.

"No." She replied. They had her cornered, she saw no point in lying. Rick ran a hand through his closely cropped hair and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"So you're alone." Emerson nodded slowly and swallowed the bread.

"It's easier." Rick cocked his head at her.

"How?" She shrugged and sighed.

"Less reliability." Rick furrowed his brows.

"How old are you?" He asked. Emerson looked away from his questioning blue eyes.

"Doesn't matter." She muttered. Rick' sighed and looked at the other men. Daryl ignored his gaze, but Shane shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, stepping closer to the bed.

"No way you made it out there on your own." Shane growled. Emerson flicked her eyes to his imposing frame and glared into his dark eyes.

"I ain't lyin'." She stated. Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit. I bet you got your group waitin' right outside those fences." He snarled. Emerson straightened her posture and pushed the bag of bag off the mattress.

"Listen, I don't wanna be here just as much as you don't want me here,-" She snapped back. "-and I ain't gotta group, so your precious house ain't in any trouble." Shane gritted his teeth and took a threatening step forward.

"Shane, stop." Rick said, holding his hand up to stop his groupmate. Shane scoffed and retreated back to the wall, glaring at Emerson as he backed away. Rick focused his attention back to the teenage girl.

"Look, I trust what you're sayin'," He said. Emerson looked at him, surprised that he would take her word so willingly. "And I know it's hard to trust people now. But we don't wanna hurt you-" He explained. Emerson just stared at Rick, not fully understanding what he was trying to say. "-and I'm not sure that I can, in good conscious, let you go back out there on your own." Emerson nearly choked on her bread and shook her head frantically.

"No,-" She said. All three men looked at her. "-I can't stay here." She continued, her eyes flicking briefly to each man. She straightened up even more and winced, her head screaming in protest.

"You'd be safe here. We have women, children, fences." Rick asked. Emerson felt panic swell in her chest. Elijah could be dead by the time she got to Atlanta at this rate, considering he wasn't already.

"Plenty of places have fences." She muttered. Rick looked at her, puzzled.

He stood and approached her bedside. She tensed as he placed a hand on her shoulder, and he quickly pulled it back, surprised at her reaction. He sighed and nodded at the other men, signaling that it was time to leave.

"At least stay 'til you feel better." He said running his hand through his hair. He turned around as he was about to leave, and Emerson ignored his gaze and focused on her bread.

"What'd you say your name was?" He asked. She didn't look at him as she swallowed the bread and replied.

"I didn't."

"We don't wanna hurt you." The sheriff insisted. Emerson ignored his gaze.

She thought of the girl in the picture again as the three men exited the room and hoped that she never had to experience what she was currently. She hoped the girl had been wiped out in the first wave of disease, that she had died peacefully. That she had a bullet put in her skull before she turned. That maybe the smile on her face didn't get ripped off by a corpse. Thinking about the girl in the photo made the pounding in her own skull intensify, and she leaned her head back against the pillow, letting the soft feathers absorb the pain.

* * *

Emerson's brain felt it was exploding. Like there was a nail shoved into her temple, and someone was hammering it deeper with a rhythmic pounding. She tried to open her eyes, but the harsh light burned her pupils, causing her to groan and shut them quickly.

"You're awake!"

The voice was high-pitched and sing-songy. Emerson opened one of her eyes and looked toward it. Standing at the end of the bed was a girl carrying a tray of food. She was thin, with a wispy blond ponytail and huge blue eyes, and she looked to be around the same age as Emerson. She smiled when she saw Emerson's eye open again.

It was the same smile as the little girl's.

"How you feelin'?" She asked, worry in her big eyes. "I brought you some dinner. It ain't the best, but it'll have to do." Emerson stared in awe, ignoring the plate of food in the girl's hand. She looked...normal? The girl gave Emerson a sweet smile.

"I'm Beth, by the way." She said She turned back to Emerson. "I heard you were alone when Daryl found you. Do you have a group?" Emerson stared at the girl and shook her head. Beth's eyes widened and she brought her hand to her chest.

"How did you do it? Those woods are full of them!" Emerson just stared at her and shrugged, her mouth slightly agape. It was as if she had forgotten how to speak. Beth shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, however you did it, you're lucky you're awake right now." She pointed to the wound on Emerson's head. "My dad said that cut's pretty deep. He checked it out when Daryl brought you in." Beth's eyes shifted. "We thought you were dead when he came back with you all limp in his arms." Emerson brought her hand to the bandage on her head and cringed again at the pain that responded to her touch. Beth cringed as well.

"Did you fall or somethin'?" Beth asked, her voice ridden with concern. Emerson looked at her wrist, flashes of the car accident jumping through her memory. She continued to stare at her wrist as Beth stared at her.

"Somethin'." Emerson uttered. Beth's blue eyes lit up, happy to finally get an answer from the girl in the bed, and she sat on the end of the bed, not noticing Emerson push herself further into the pillow behind her back.

"What'd you say your name was again?" Beth asked. Emerson looked into her innocent eyes and shook her head.

"I didn't." She paused, hesitating to reveal her identity to the girl. "I-I'm Emerson." Beth smiled and giggled.

"You do not understand how relieved I am to know that I'm not the only teenage girl left." Beth exclaimed. Emerson smirked at Beth, wondering how someone so naive could have survived this long.

"You can probably share the RV outside once you're feelin' better. I don't think Andrea and Carol would mind. I would offer you to stay in my room, but my dad's not too keen on havin' strangers stay in the house." The smirk fell from Emerson's face when she heard Beth's offer.

"No!" She said, Beth's eyes instantly filled with confusion. "It's not that-I can't stay here-"

"-But, you'll die out there! There's too many to go it alone. It's safe here." Beth interrupted, gesturing toward the large window looking out onto the large field behind the house. It was tempting to stay, to hide from the horrors beyond the fences. But reason pushed out optimism. There was no such thing as safe, only safer than before, and sooner or later, this oasis would dry up.

"I have to get somewhere. I promised someone I would. I have to." Emerson stammered.

"Oh." Beth said, her expression falling. Emerson's eyes fell to her lap and she didn't respond. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Beth sighed and looked down at the plate she had set on the bed and pushed it toward Emerson.

"Just-" She sighed again and stood from the bed, walking toward the door and opening it. "-just think about it." The door clicked as she closed it softly, and once again, Emerson felt loneliness creep around her.


	3. Chapter 3

"What're you doin'?"

Emerson huffed and finished tying her boot laces into a tight bow, looking up at the brunette standing in the doorway to the bedroom. She braced herself and stood from the bed, teetering slightly as the world spun beneath her.

"Gettin' out of this room." She said as she walked to the small bathroom. It had been a week since she had arrived at the Greene farm, and she was incredibly bored. Being restricted to the soft bed had been a blessing in the beginning. Even though Emerson would never admit it, those first few days on that mattress were amazing, like she was making up all the sleep she had missed in the past two months. After two days though, she felt like she was going insane. Being trapped in that bed with only Beth to talk to every couple hours was driving her insane. The blonde would come to drop off meals everyday, and to Emerson's distaste, stay for a conversation. Well, not really conversations, more like Beth talking at her rather than with her.

Beth's little speeches had been informative though, and they gave Emerson enough information to play her cards right. These people were vulnerable, desperate for refuge, and willing to give anything to stay. There was no way they would accompany or even try to follow her on her journey to Eli, something she longed to resume.

Emerson pulled open the door and cringed at her reflection in the large bathroom mirror.

"Holy shit..." She whispered as she examined her dull and stiff skin. It was littered with small red cuts from the accident and a large purple bruise covered her left cheek. Emerson rubbed her glassy eyes and pulled her knotted curls into a tight ponytail, wincing at the large bandage on her hairline. She didn't recognize the girl looking back at her. The ferocity and life in her eyes had been extinguished and replaced by tiredness. Her skin had lost all of it's glow and her hair was more straw like than ever.

"Emerson-" Maggie said as she entered the bedroom. Emerson groaned and exited the bathroom.

"-Look-" Emerson interrupted. The young woman stopped in her tracks. "-I'm grateful for what y'all have done for me, but if I have to spend another second in this room, I'm going to lose my mind."

"You're not healthy enough." Maggie said, placing her hands on her hips and giving Emerson a skeptical look.

"I'm not leavin', if that's what you're scared of." Maggie's face dropped.

"You're not?" Emerson shook her head. It was a lie though. She was getting out of here as soon as she could walk without her vision becoming fuzzy. She was desperate to get to Elijah, but she wasn't dumb. Trying to find him in her current state would be a suicide mission. Her reflexes were slow and it was a miracle that she could stand without her head pounding.

"Not yet." She said. Maggie sighed and looked out the large window next to the bed.

"I still don't think you should." Over the past week, it had been Maggie and her father, Hershel, that had made sure that the wound on Emerson's head didn't get any worse than it already was. Emerson looked down at her wrapped wrist, but it was the least of her worries.

"I don't care." She said as she pushed past the older girl. Maggie stomped after her, demanding that she stay in bed, but Emerson continued down the long hallway.

"Emerson! Emerson, Stop! You're gonna hurt yourself!" Emerson stopped and whipped her body back toward Maggie, who also stopped and looked at her with wide green eyes.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I don't want you to hurt-"

"-Bullshit." Emerson interrupted. Maggie's expression dropped, shocked at Emerson's reaction.

"What?" Emerson rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, exasperated at Maggie's ignorance.

"That's not how the world works anymore." Emerson snapped. But those weren't her words, they were Nate's. He was the one that had taught her the ways of the new world, and rule number one was to understand it. Maggie looked at her, her mouth open, but Emerson didn't care. "And the sooner you get used to it, the better." Emerson spat. She turned and stormed down the stairs, leaving Maggie gaping at the top of the stairs.

Emerson felt a small pang of guilt as she descended the large staircase. Maybe she had been too harsh. These were the people that had basically saved her life. Emerson shook her head, ridding herself of the dangerous thoughts. _Groups are vulnerable and carry too much weight, the sooner I'm out, the better._ She huffed and turned the corner, making her way to the front door. The morning light blinded Emerson as she whipped open the front door, and she had to use her injured arm to block out the bright sun as she stumbled down the porch steps.

"Emerson? Where are you going?"

Emerson groaned at the voice and faced the young man. The young Asian man that must've been Glenn swallowed and set down the guitar he had been aimlessly strumming. She had heard mentions of him in her short and awkward talks with Beth.

His eyes were wide and questioning and she rolled hers.

"Out." Glenn's expression dropped and he looked around Emerson and into the house.

"You're leaving?" He asked, looking at her with questioning eyes. Emerson shook her head, ignoring the slight ringing in her ears. Glenn cocked his head to the side and Emerson sighed.

"Jesus Christ, you people are thick." She muttered to herself before addressing Glenn. "No, I'm not leavin'. Rick won't let me. I just need to get outta that room before I lose it." She rambled.

"Oh." Glenn looked just as shocked as Maggie had earlier and sat back down in the rocking chair. He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked back up at her.

"Did you see Maggie in there?" Emerson looked back through the open doorway, confused why Glenn had changed the topic so quickly.

"Uh…yeah." She said, feeling the guilt return. Glenn's eyes lit up at Emerson's confirmation and he picked up the guitar once again. "Why?" She asked. Glenn shrugged and plucked a few out of tune notes.

"Just wonderin'." There was a slight smirk still on his face. Emerson squinted at him. The people on this farm, they weren't going to make it. They were all so caught up in their own problems that the corpses only a few yards away were not a top priority. They were ignorant, unaware of the danger of getting too comfortable. This safe-haven was going to crumble to the ground, and she did not want to be here when it did.

"Do y'know where Rick is?" Glenn nodded and pointed toward the RV.

"Probably over there." He said, turning back to the guitar and strumming wildly. Emerson chuckled and looked toward the RV. "I think they're workin' on a plan." Emerson spun around and looked at Glenn.

"Plan for what?" Glenn looked up at her again, his eyes full of worry.

"Nobody told you?" Emerson shook her head. He sighed and glanced toward the forest, his eyes scanning the stretch of trees.

"Well, we got stuck on this highway, before we came here. And-" He swallowed hard. "-And we got caught off guard by a horde. We thought it was safe, but more came, and one of ours got chased off."

"Oh." Glenn gave her a small, sad smile.

"Yeah, but she's still out there. Somewhere." Glenn looked out at the trees again. "That's why we're still searchin'." Emerson's blue eyes darted back to him and she bit her lip.

"What's her name?"

"Sophia. She's Carol's daughter." Glenn replied. "Carol's the one with the short hair." Emerson's pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, and Glenn smiled back up at her. She looked down at her wrapped wrist and rocked on her feet, feeling the silence start to become awkward.

"Okay, well, uh… I gotta get goin'." She said, avoiding eye contact with the young man. "Uh, good luck with that." She said pointing at the guitar. Glenn smiled and turned his attention back to the instrument as Emerson trudged down the porch steps. Each step felt nearly impossible, and her head spun as she approached the RV. The group surrounding it turned and looked at her with wide eyes. Rick stepped forward, and Emerson felt a strange sense of relief when she saw he was no longer in his sheriff's uniform.

"Hershel said-"

"-I don't care what he said. I'm not stayin' in that room any longer. You can force me to stay until my head's better, but you ain't coopin' me up in there." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. Ricks eyes flicked to her injured wrist, then to the large gauze on her hairline. He groaned and looked toward the woods.

"I don't have time for this." He sighed and nodded toward the two women hanging clothes to dry a few feet away. "Stay with Lori and Carol until I get back. We need to talk." Emerson's face dropped as Rick turned back to Shane, who once again sneered in her direction. Next to her, a blond woman sat down her gun.

"Emerson?" She asked, extending her hand out. "I'm Andrea, and that's Dale." She said, placing her other hand on the older man's shoulder. Emerson ignored the hand extended and Andrea pursed her lips.

"I get it." Emerson looked up at her, and Andrea sighed. "You want to get out of here, right?" Emerson shrugged.

"As soon as I'm better." Andrea looked toward the forest, the sunlight reflecting off her pale blue eyes, making them eerily similar to the corpses.

"You have someone out there." It wasn't a question and Emerson looked at her with wide eyes, wondering if Beth had let it slip that she was searching for someone. Andrea shrugged and grabbed her gun, shoving it into the belt of her cargo pants.

"You wouldn't be this desperate to leave for nothing." She placed a hand on Emerson's shoulder before walking around the car with Dale, leaving Emerson alone once again. She let out a sigh of relief and glanced over her shoulder at the two women sitting by the clothesline.

* * *

"Pass me the garlic." Emerson looked up from the pot she was stirring and at Lori, who had her hand out-stretched. She dropped the spoon and tossed a clove to Rick's wife. Emerson turned back to the broth she was stirring. _What the hell are you doing, Em._ She thought as she stared at her reflection in the broth. She was getting comfortable, too comfortable. She should be on the road to get to Eli, but here she was, stirring soup. Emerson sighed and stirred harder, whisking away her image. The women in the kitchen looked up when a knock sounded on the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Emerson, can we talk?" Rick asked, smiling at the other women. Emerson nodded and wiped her hands on her shirt. She followed Rick through the kitchen and into the main living space, sitting on the soft sofa when he motioned her to.

"Thanks for waitin'." Rick lowered himself into a chair across from her.

"We need to talk about what your plan is goin' forward." Emerson licked her lips and nodded.

"I'm out of here as soon as possible." Rick sighed and looked out the large window and at the gaping forest.

"And you're doin' this alone?" Emerson nodded and crossed her arms defensively over her chest.

"I've done it before." She said, watching as Rick's eyes traveled to the large bandage on her head. She brought her hand up to it and brushed away the few curls falling onto her forehead.

"I know what I'm doin'."

"And I don't doubt that. But, don't you think it's risky?" Emerson shrugged and sighed.

"Rick, I ain't stayin' here. This isn't my group, these aren't my people. I don't belong here." Rick raised his eyebrows and looked at the teenager sitting in front of him.

"It could be."

"No, it can't." Emerson retorted. She couldn't abandon Elijah, she wouldn't give up on him like that. "I promised someone I would find them, and I intend to keep that promise."

"I understand. And I have no right in keepin' you here against your will. But you gotta at least let me help you." He said, his voice showing some desperation. Emerson raised her eyebrows.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you wanna help me?" Rick sighed and let his eyes wander to the kitchen adjacent to the room. Lori was busy whisking together something in a bowl, a large and beautiful smile on her face as she conversed with the other women in the kitchen.

"'Cause I got lucky. I still have my wife, I still have my son, and I don't know what I would do if they-" He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "It's who we are. It's who I am." Emerson nodded, but a small voice in her head stopped her from responding verbally. They were like other groups, they just weren't at the breaking point yet. All it took was one misstep and this group would be in shambles.

Rick leaned forward and pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket. He smoothed it out on his leg and handed it to Emerson. She took the thin sheet in her hand and unfolded it slowly, revealing a map. It was a tourist-style travel map, with a large picture of Georgia on it. Her eyes lit up at she examined the red and blue lines stretching across the state like veins, eventually landing on a small red star next to the word _Atlanta_. Rick leaned forward and grabbed a pen from the small side table next to his chair.

"We're about here." He said, marking the map with a small blue dot. Emerson's eyes widened at the dot. It was much closer to the red star than she had originally thought. She smiled and folded the map before sliding it into her back pocket. She looked back up at the man in front of her and nodded.

"Thank you." Rick nodded and looked back toward the women in the kitchen.

"When you're ready to go, I'll have Lori pack you a bag." He said. "Just some essentials to keep you goin'."

"Rick, you don't have to do that," She started, only to be interrupted by the sheriff.

"Yes, I do." He said. Emerson looked out the large window and at the expansive forest. She imagined herself out there, healthy and replenished, on her way to her cousin. She also saw another version of herself. This one was skeletal and frail, hanging onto life by a thread. She let out a shaky breath, knowing what could happen once she left the relative safety of the farm.

"Okay."

* * *

"That smells amazing, Carol." Lori said as she rummaged through the large cabinet of spices.

"It's all in the details." Carol said as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Emerson smirked and poured water into glasses. As much as she should have hated it, it was nice to return to some sort of normalcy. A sense of life before. The usual paranoia and awareness that always nagged her had been muted, and it felt...good. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she could _live_ again, not just survive.

But all of those feelings flooded back as a gunshot sounded outside.

Emerson shot a glance at Beth, whose blue eyes were wide with fear. The women bolted from the kitchen, leaving the meal on the counter. As Emerson ran, the nagging returned. _It's happening._ It was no surprise, but it still hurt to admit to herself. The women ran to the end of the front walkway and stopped suddenly, panting and trying to catch their breath as they looked past the RV and into the pasture. Emerson gripped her pounding head and squinted against the bright sunlight. In the distance, she could see Rick and the other men congregated around a figure on the ground.

"What's goin' on out here?" Hershel bellowed. Emerson looked at Beth again and just shook her head. Beth turned her eyes back to the scene unfolding and the two girls watched as Andrea scurried down the RV and sprinted to the group. Beth ran a shaky hand through her hair and gasped.

"Somethin' bad happened." She whispered. Emerson glanced over at her and swallowed hard. This was everything she had dreaded would happen. _Wrong Place, wrong time._ She watched wide eyed as Rick and Shane marched back toward the house, followed by Glenn and T-Dog, and carrying a bloodied and filthy Daryl around their shoulders.

"What happened?" Carol said as the people from the house walked alongside the men. Shane shook his head and looked over his shoulder at the RV.

"Annie Oakley up there thought Dixon was a walker." He grunted. Maggie gasped and looked at the limp hunter wrapped around the men's shoulders.

"Is he dead?" She asked. Rick shook his head.

"No," He said, readjusting his grip on Daryl. "She just grazed him." Emerson looked at the red line on Daryl's temple and winced, bringing her hand up to her own head injury. His head was cocked to the side and plastered with mud and blood, as well as his shirt.

She followed the people to the house but stopped on the porch, feeling the awkwardness of her presence intensify. Beth looked back at her and frowned.

"Em, what are you doin'? C'mon!" Emerson shook her head and backed away from the front door.

"No." She said, holding her hands out in front of her. "I don't want to get in your way." Beth motioned for her to come in, but gave up quickly and ran in alongside her sister.

Once alone, Emerson sighed and looked out at the fading sun in the distance. She closed her eyes and imagined she was far away from the farm. Far away from the drama of these strangers and on the road to Eli. She groaned and lowered into the rocking chair Glenn had sat in earlier and ran her hands through her curls. Maybe promising Rick that she wouldn't leave until she was better was a mistake. Maybe she had lost her edge, and now she was soft and vulnerable.

Slowly, she reached up and peeled away the large bandage on her head, wincing as the surgical tape slowly ripped from her skin, taking a few strands of hair with it. She crumpled it in her hand and threw it over the porch. Emerson brought her hand to the gash and cringed at the soreness still present, but was relieved that it was no longer bleeding. Emerson huffed and glanced at the slightly ajar front door, listening to the frantic voices inside. Here she was, sitting out in the cold night air, while the people who had saved her were inside desperately trying to guarantee another one of theirs wouldn't die. This is what she longed for, a real group. A family. But this wasn't it. Her's was miles away, in Atlanta. Her light eyes scanned the farm and paused on the dirt road leading away from it. Images of the city swam through her mind as she leaned back in the chair, allowing her weight to sway it gently.

"I'll be there soon, I promise." Her voice uttered, only a whisper into the cool night.


End file.
